Crashing Love
by TsundereRose
Summary: America's birthday is just around the corner and once again it has put England in a foul mood. Yet, he when America's life is suddenly hanging by a thread, England wishes he had never forced his former colony to go back home so that he could be alone.
1. Crashing Love

The summer sun was shining brightly down into the garden where England sat. He tended to his garden, pulling out some dead flowers and pesky weeds from the ground. A frown crossed the Englishman's face when he saw all the weeds and dead flowers. "Damn it. I haven't had time to take care of my garden lately. Now there are a bunch of weeds and dead flowers everywhere." He muttered to himself before he took a small shovel and dug out the wilted flowers and weeds, tossing them aside. The English nation seemed to get annoyed at any little thing that went wrong and he didn't seem to be in a good mood in the very least. His bad mood stemmed from the approaching date; and it seemed that almost every year around this time that England mood would become would become so foul.

As he tended to the garden, he heard some footsteps coming up from behind him. England's frown grew when he heard the voice of the person who had walked up behind him. "Hey, England." America said, sounding like his regular cheerful, ignorant self. England felt his mood worsen even more, for America was the last person he wanted to see right now. England thought about ignoring America, but, he knew that if he did, he would just keep pestering him. He forced himself to glance over and looked towards the younger nation, muttering a quiet greeting to him. "Morning." He said quietly before turning back to his plants.

"So," America began, taking England's greeting as an invitation to converse. "How long have you been out here? When I woke up, you weren't anywhere in the house." America asked. It was a fact that America had been visiting England and staying at the older nation's house during his visit. England was starting to regret the decision about letting his former colony stay at his place so close to the upcoming date that was putting him in this terrible mood.

"I've been out here for a while. I thought I would come tend to my garden. I haven't been able to recently and it has suffered because of that." England said with his back to America. "Oh, well, you could have come ask me for help." America offered. "I don't need your help." England responded in a cold voice. America stood quiet for a moment, as if actually sensing the other nation's anger in his voice. "Oh, well, that's okay then." America said and silence followed. The awkward silence bothered England. He didn't like it. So, after a couple of minutes of dealing with the awkward silence, he decided to break it. "Are you planning on going back anytime soon?" He asked, meaning if America planned to go back home to celebrate the upcoming event. "Huh? Going back where?" America asked with a tilt of his head. England rolled his emerald eyes. _The idiot probably doesn't even remember what the date is._

"Are you planning to go back home soon? You are probably wanted back there." America still didn't seem to understand what England was trying to say. "Why would I be expected back?" He asked. "And why would I be going back anytime soon?" England sighed. "I just thought you might be thinking about going back home." He said. "Especially considering the time of year it is. You are probably expected back home." America tilted his head. "Why would anyone be expecting me-" America paused for a moment and England guessed he finally remembered what the date was. "Oh, that's right! It's going to be my birthday soon!" America stated cheerfully and he looked at England. "Hey, England, why don't you come back with me and we can celebrate my birthday together. We can watch the fireworks. It will be loads of fun!" England glanced over at America out of the corner of his eye. Was her really asking him if he wanted to go? Was he a complete idiot? "No, I can't. I have work." England replied and looked back to his garden.

"Aw! Work is no fun. You should come back with me." America said, placing a hand on England's shoulder, causing the older nation to shoot a glare in his direction. "America, if I just up and leave like that, my boss will have my head on a silver platter." England spat and reached into some plants to pull out some wilted flowers. As he tried to pull out the flowers, his finger caught on a thorn and scratched him. "Ouch! Damn it. Why didn't I put gloves on?" England grumbled, looking at his now bleeding finger. "Well, your boss will understand as long as you're with me, right?" America asked before he noticed the cut on England's finger. "Here, let me see." He said as he bent down, reaching for his former charge's hand.

England noticed America coming closer to him. He glanced over at the younger nation and quickly snatched his hand away before America could grab it. "It's fine! I don't need your help." He snapped, moving away slightly. He then reached over to his garden supplies that were about a foot away. He took of cloth from the supplies and wrapped it around his finger. America watched England, a frown crossing his face. "England, are you alright?" He asked softly and placed his hand on the older nation's shoulder, causing him to flinch slightly. "I am fine." England replied quietly, looking at the ground.

"Are you sure? You don't seem like it." America responded, moving closer to him. England shrugged his hand off and moved away again. "I said I am fine." He repeated himself. America's frown grew. "Then why won't you come celebrate with me?" He asked. _Is he really that clueless? _England sighed softly and shook his head. "Since when have I ever come to visit you or congratulate you on your birthday? What makes you think I would come if I never have before?" England said, his voice colder than he intended it to be. When he glanced over at America, he saw hurt on the younger nation's face before he lowered his blue gaze to the floor. It almost made England feel guilty for how he acted, but, not enough to apologize and say he would go with America to celebrate. "I just hoping you would come this time." He said softly. "Why is it that you never come to visit me around this time?"

"Why would I come and congratulate you on the day you decided to run off and become independent?" When America heard England's reasoning for why he wouldn't come celebrate his birthday with him, he looked up at England in disbelief, wondering how he could still be angry at something that happened hundreds of years ago. "So, it's about that, is it?" America muttered, letting out a soft sigh. All the joy in his voice he previously had was gone. "You know why I did that. Why can't you understand?" England did not respond. He just merely turned his gaze away from America, looking back to his plants.

Another awkward silence fell upon the two, neither of them speaking for some time. England took it upon himself to break the silence again. "I went ahead and got you an airplane ticket so you can go back." He said. "As I said before, you are probably expected back soon. I left the ticket in your room. You should go ahead and start packing. Your flight leaves tonight." England took the chance and glanced up at America again, but, he quickly regretted it. His former colony looked deeply hurt from the fact that he wasn't coming to celebrate his birthday with him and from the fact that he was pretty much throwing him out of England's house because he couldn't bare being near him at the moment.

America starred at England with a pleading gaze. "England, please, won't you come with me?" He asked again. England starred back at him for a moment before turning his head to the ground, fiddling with his garden again. The unspoken answer was clear enough to America for him to let out a sigh and stand to his feet. He turned around and started to walk away from him, going back into England's home to get his things. England let out a sigh of his own and he tried to concentrate on tending to his plants, but, he couldn't find reason to continue, his mood even worse than it was before America showed up. He instead stood up, leaving his tools behind, and went back to his house as well.

England quietly entered his home, making sure to make as little noise as possible as he fled to his study, wanting to avoid America. After entering his study, he quickly closed the door behind him and locked it. He stood there, leaning up against the door for a couple of moments. After collecting his thoughts, he walked over to his desk and sat down in his chair. With fallen heart, he put his arms on the desk and laid his head down on top of them. He laid quietly at his desk, not moving an inch. Not till he heard a knock of his door that made him jump slightly in surprise. "I'm leaving now." England heard America' voice on the other side of the door, but, he stood quiet, not responding and waiting for him to leave.

He heard America's walk away from the door to the study and eventually heard the sound of a car door outside. Turning to look out the window, England watched America get into a taxi that was probably there to take him to the airport. England watched the taxi drive off, soon no longer in his sight. Once the taxi and America was gone, he laid his head back down on his desk. Despite the fact that England's mind was plagued with distressing thoughts, sleep quickly found its way to England, yet, just because he was no asleep, didn't mean that his mind would be put to rest from its distress.

†

"England! England! You came to see me!" A young, child America called out as he ran down a dirt path that England walked on. A smile crossed England's face and he bent down, opening up his arms as America ran to him. America jumped into England's arms and hugged him tightly. England wrapped his arms around the child. "I'm so happy you came to see me, England!" America said cheerfully. England smiled softly and looked down at his young colony. "Of course I came to see you. I did promise I would, didn't I?" He said, lifting his hand to ruffle America's blond hair. America's smile grew wider. "I am happy you kept your promise. I missed you!" He said, hugging the English nation tighter.

England starred down at America with a soft gaze. "I missed you, too, America." He said softly. "And look at how big you've already gotten." He said, glancing over his young colony. It seemed every time England came to visit the boy, he would grow. It wouldn't be long till he was a young man, and the thought made England kind of sad, enough that his smile faded from his face, something that the young America noticed. "Is something wrong, England?" He asked quietly, looking up worriedly at him. England blinked in surprise, not realizing he had let his feelings for his thoughts out into the open. "Yes, I am fine. Don't worry." He said and smiled again, not wanting to worry America.

America's one smile returned as well once England's did. "That's good." He said and pulled away from England, standing now. "And I have grown a lot. I've also been doing a lot of exploring lately. There is so much land here! I wonder if I will be able to explore it all." England's eyes glittered with pride as he listened to America's plans that would make him all the more bigger and stronger. "I am sure you can." England responded. America looked towards the nation. "Yes. I want to be as big as you one day, England. I want to be a great country, just like you!" A spark of surprise passed England's face. Did America mean he wanted to be his own country? That was certainly something to think about.

Yet, he decided to leave the thought for another time. America was still young and still had a long way to go before he could even possibly think of achieving this goal of his. "I am sure one day you will be very strong." England said and stood up before patting the top of America's blond head. America giggled. "Yes, one day I will be strong!" He said. Then, all of a sudden, America's smile faded and his blue eyes turned to look at the ground. He became silent. England tilted his head in confusion. What had brought on this sudden silence and behavior? "America?" England spoke softly, wondering if his colony was alright. America didn't respond right away, but, when he did, England was surprised by the coldness in the boy's voice.

"If I want to become big and strong, I'll have to become independent, won't I?" America said, looking up at England with a hardened gaze. England found it hard to find his voice, confused and shocked by America's sudden behavior change. "What?" He forced the word out of his mouth, but, before America could respond, there was a flash of light, almost as bright as lightening. It made England flinch away and shut his eyes from the brightness. When he opened his eyes again, he no longer was on the dirt path where he and America was before. The sky was no longer bright and sunny and rain plummeted down from the dark clouds above.

After looking around and unable to determine where he was, England glanced down to his side. The child America that was with him before was gone. _America? Where did he-_ England was cut off from his thought when he heard a clash. He quickly looked around from the noise, eventually spotting what had made the noise. He saw two armies standing some number of yards away from each other, in front of each army, two men stood. After recognizing the two men in front of each army, his eyes went wide and he realized where he was. The two people in front of the two armies were America and himself, their muskets locked together. He was in the past and where he stood was a battlefield that was fought on during the Revolutionary war.

As he starred at his past self and the past America, England shook his head, the events from the war starting to replay in his head as well as right in front of him. _No! Not again! Don't make me relieve it again!_ England begged his mind, but, the scene in front of him didn't fade. England glanced up at the fight again and he saw that the weapons between the two nations were still locked, the blade of England's musket digging into the arm of America's musket. Having no choice, England sat and watched the scene play out in front of him.

Just as it had happened once before, the past England was able to disarm the past America. He then aimed his musket at the independent colony's face, ready to fire at any moment. "Don't shoot him…" England whispered, even though he knew what was going to happen. He saw his past self keep his aim locked on America. America was defenseless and with one pull of the trigger, he would be defeated. Yet, the young America just starred at the past England with a determined look, waiting for him to make the final move. The past England seemed to be frozen in his place. Eventually, he dropped his musket and collapsed to the ground; unable to shoot the one he once called his brother. England, though he was too far away to hear anything they could be saying, heard America's voice ring in his head, remembering the words that had been said all those years ago as he looked down at the once strong, and now defeated English nation. _"You use to be so great…"_

As the words rang out in his head, England felt tears rushing down his face. "No…no…it was never suppose to be like this." He whispered to himself. As he starred out into the battle field, everything started to fade away. England lifted his hand, reaching out into the distance. "Wait, please…don't go. Don't leave me." He called out softly, but, he got no reply. Soon, everything around him faded away and England was left alone, surrounded by darkness. England sat in the darkness, tears streaming down his face. His hands covered his face as he continued to cry. Though he was alone in the darkness now, the hurtful memories replayed themselves over and over in his mind till he eventually woke up.

†

When his eyes opened, England saw he was back in his study, head still on his desk. He removed his head from his desk and lifted his hand to rub the blurry sleepiness from his eyes. As he rubbed his eyes, he felt wetness on his hand, wetness that came from his tears. He wiped the tears away and glanced around the study, a soft sigh escaping his lips. England stood up from his chair and walked over to the door to leave. While walking up to the door, he spotted something on the floor right in front of it. Tilting his head, he bent down and picked up the object. It was a picture, one showing himself and America, both from present day.

England starred at the picture. Both America and himself seemed to be happy in the picture. They weren't fighting like they often did, but instead, they were both smiling, looking like they were having a good time. England suddenly recalled the day the picture was taken and he also began to remember of other times he and America had that were considered happy times. Yes, they did often argue and fight with each other, but, there were times where they would get along. It was those times that England loved and cherished almost as much as the times he had with America before his independence. Maybe he even cherished some of those moments even more than those other times. England starred at the picture for a while longer before he began to reach into his pocket. He took out his cell phone and flipped it open. He looked through his contacts and began looking for a specific number. When he did he went to press send, but hesitated. He let his thumb hover over the send button for a few seconds as he contemplated if he should actually call. Once gaining the courage to press send, he put the phone to his ear, hoping America would pick up.

†

America sat on his plane. It had just taken off a little while ago and they were still ascending into the air. He was still upset that England didn't come back with him to celebrate his birthday. He thought that after so many years that he would have gotten over the whole independence issue by now. He sighed and leaned his head back against the chair, glancing out the window. The sky was bright and sunny, only a few white, fluffy clouds passed the plane by as they flew. He tried to enjoy the view, but, once again, England crossed his mind. Not wanting to think about upsetting thoughts, America closed his eyes and tried to sleep. _I wonder if England found the picture that I left for him…_

Though not finding it easy at first, with so many upsetting thoughts in his mind at the moment, sleep eventually began to find its way to America. He wasn't sure how long it had taken, perhaps twenty minutes or so, but, he found himself slowly falling asleep. Just as he was about to fall out and enter his first dream, the plane shook rather violently, making his eyes snap open. America glanced around the plane and saw the people in the plane seemed to be beginning to panic and worry. Turning his gaze to the window in his isle, America looked outside and was shocked with what he saw. The white, fluffy clouds that had been there not long ago were now black and dangerous.

As America looked out into the dark sky, worry began to flood through him. The plane shook again. The other passengers began to panic more now and the flight attendants were trying to calm them though, but, when America looked at them, he could tell even they were uneasy and worried about the storm outside. The turbulence continued to increase and a few passengers had gotten out of their seats in panic. America felt himself starting to panic as his phone in his jacket pocket began to vibrate. He slowly reached for the phone in his pocket and looked at the caller i.d. England's name appeared on the screen. Though surprised that England was calling him and not having any idea about how he was getting reception in the middle of the storm, he quickly answered his phone, despite knowing he shouldn't be talking on his phone while he was on the plane, since they were in the middle of a storm.

"Hello?" America answered the phone, trying to hide the worry in his voice. _"H-Hey, America? Um…I was wondering if your flight had taken off yet…"_ England stammered. "Um, yeah. I'm on the plane now." America responded. _"O-oh. I didn't know. I guess I shouldn't be calling you right now then. I'll just call you back once your plane lands then."_ "Wait, England! Don't hang up." America quickly said before England had a chance to hang up. The plane gave another violent shake and the noise of the panicking passengers began to increase. England must have heard the panicked noises on his end of the phone, because when he spoke again, his voice sounded concerned. _"America, what is going on there? Is everything alright?"_ He asked and America shook his head, even though he knew England wouldn't be able to see it.  
>"I don't know, England. I think there is something wrong with the plane. There is a storm and the plane is shaking a lot, and everyone is freaking out." He said. The plane suddenly began to drop, and at a fast pace as well. The sudden drop almost made America drop his phone, but, he was able to keep hold of it. <em><br>_

_"America, it is getting hard to hear you. Speak up!"_ England said on the other side of the phone. America glanced out the window at his side and saw the dark clouds beginning to rush past them as they descended at a fast pace. People began to scream and the pilot spoke out on the intercom, telling the passengers to brace for impact. "Shit, the plane is going down." He cursed under his breath, still holding the phone to his ear. _"America…?"_"England, I may never see you again, so, this is my only chance to tell you. England, I lo-" America didn't get a chance to finish what he was going to say when the plane was hit by a gust of wind, practically knocking America out of his chair and making him drop his phone.

†

England heard the dial tone on his phone right as America was trying to tell him something. "America? America!" He called out, hoping America would pick up his phone again. The hope of that was crushed and great fear rushed over England. Pushing his fear away, he quickly ran out of his study and started to look for his key. While looking for his keys, England glanced down at the picture that was still in his hand. He stuck it in his pocket and soon found his keys. He then picked up his phone again as he left his house, hoping to get some him and praying that America was alright.

†

England sat in a hospital waiting in the waiting impatiently to see America. The plane's crash site had been found quickly, seeing as that hadn't been in the air long before the plane had crashed, and all those who had been on the plane were quickly brought to hospital. The hospital was crowded and chaotic. The doctors had their normal patients to tend to as well as all the crash victims. England wasn't the only one in the waiting room either waiting to see a one of the unfortunate people who had happened to have been on the plane. There were many people coming into the hospital who wanted to know if their loved ones were alright. Though England hoped they were okay, at the moment, he was just worried about America.

When he first arrived at the hospital, he had asked the doctors how America was doing. He was told that the nation was in intensive care and that he couldn't have visitors at the moment. England wasn't able to get any other information out of the doctor and he had been sitting in the waiting room ever since. That was hours ago. Having no choice but to wait and pray for America to be alright, England sat in the waiting till he was told he could see him.

England sat in the waiting room, each minute taking an hour to pass. His mind wandered back to earlier when he had told America to leave and go home. England wondered if maybe it was his fault that America was in the hospital now. If he hadn't rushed America out of his house, he would not have gotten on to the plane and he wouldn't have been in the crash. If England hadn't let his emotions get the better of him and if he would have just dealt with America and his birthday for a few more days, everything would have been okay. Well, perhaps not okay, but, at least America wouldn't be fighting for his life right now. _Is it really my fault? If he doesn't pull through, will it be because of me?_ England wasn't sure if he would be able to live with himself if America died because of him.

England reached into his pocket and pulled out the picture he had found on the floor of his study right before the crash. He looked at the picture, and as he did, he felt tears beginning to drip down his face. He tried to stop the tears, but, overwhelmed by everything that has happened, he found himself unable to stop the tears from flowing. A few tears fell on to the picture and England put the picture back in his pocket before burying his face in his hand, continuing to cry for what seemed to feel like forever.

A while later, England was told by a nurse that America was stable enough to have visitors. He couldn't get a lot of information out of the nurse about America's condition. He would just have to see for himself on how America was doing. As England walked into the room where America was in, his eyes went wide when he saw the younger country. America was laying in a bed, unconscious with a heart monitor and some other machines attached to him and a breathing tube down his throat. Bandages were wrapped around his head and arm, and he had a cast on his foot. Cuts and bruises covered him and he looked completely broken. England starred in disbelief, never before seeing his young and strong former colony in such a fallen state.

He pulled up a chair beside the bed and sat down, looking at America. He stood quiet as watched him, hoping America would awaken, but he didn't. "America…" England finally spoke. "…I-I am sorry about what happened before. I am sorry I was so harsh to you. I'm sorry that I'm always harsh to you." He said quietly, struggling to keep his voice from cracking with tears as he continued to apologize helplessly to the injured blond in the bed. "I'm sorry that I said I wouldn't celebrate your birthday with you. I'm sorry I threw you out of my house. I'm sorry. I'm just so sorry." Tears had begun to fall down England's face again by now. His head was low as he cried, the acceleration of the heart monitor in the room barely breaking through to his mind till a doctor came into the room and touched England's shoulder to get his attention.  
>Surprised by the doctor's touch, England's head snapped up and he looked towards the doctor. The doctor asked for England to leave for a moment and though England was reluctant to leave America's bedside, he knew he had no choice. He left the room and stood in the hallway just outside of the room, not wanting to go far.<p>

Seeing a few chairs not far from the door to the room where America was, England walked over to them and sat down. He waited to be called back inside. The minutes passed and England started to wonder what could be taking so long. Why had he not been allowed back inside? He something else gone wrong? Was America alright?  
>Soon, more doctors began to rush into America's room and a chilling fear ran up England's spine. England stood up from the chair he sat in and moved closer to the room, standing only a few feet from the door so he could try to hear what was going on inside of the room. He could hear the doctors working inside and hear their hurried voices, but, there was so much noise coming from inside the room, he couldn't make out what they were saying. He heard the heart monitor though still. It was going way too fast. Then all of a sudden, the heart monitor went dead. England's own heart skipped a beat when the monitor stopped. The sound of the heart monitor quickly started back up though, giving some, but not much, relief.<p>

Once the doctors had America stabilized again, they began to retreat from the room. England stepped up to the last doctor to walk out of the room. "How is he?" He asked. The doctor looked towards England, his eyes tired and defeated. When he spoke, he said that America's outlook didn't look good. Upon hearing this, England rushed back into the room and went straight to America's side. Everything looked the same, but, the breathing tube down his throat was now gone. Why had it been taken out? Did he no longer need it or was it that the doctors had given up on trying to save him? England's knees shook and fear that America was really going to die swept through his whole body. He collapsed by America's beside and buried his face into the unconscious nation's chest, crying out loudly for America to wake up and pull through.

"You can't go like this!" He yelled. "You just can't! Don't you say the hero always pulls through? Then pull through already damn it! Pull through!" He wept and clung to the bed sheets as he yelled, crying out to America till his throat was sore. "Please…pull through. Don't leave me again." His voice eventually became a whisper and soon it went silent, now only sobbing quietly into the American's chest, wishing with every fiber of his being that he would wake up.

While he sobbed, England felt something brush up against his arm. He lifted his head and glanced down at his arm. He saw nothing by his arm that could have brushed up against it. About to shrug off the touch as his imagination, it was then he noticed slight movement coming from America. America's hand that rested near England's elbow began to move. His fingers twitched before his whole hand closed into a fist. England's eyes went wide. _Is he waking up?_ With a sudden surge of hope flaring up in his chest, England looked towards America's face. "America?" He called quietly and took America's hand in his. America's hand closed over England's and England squeezed the hand slightly. "America, can you hear me? Can you open your eyes?" A couple of minutes passed and England held his breath, hoping America would wake up.

Soon, America's eyes slowly began to open and England lowered his head to America's face so America would be able to see him. America winced slightly as he opened his eyes, the light burning into his sore gaze. As his eyes adjusted, he looked around before noticing England above him. "England?" He muttered, the pain from his injuries in his voice. "You woke up. You're alive!" England cried softly, a wave of relief flooding over him. America looked up at England with a confused expression. "What happened?" He asked. "Your plane crashed. You are in the hospital. You've been unconscious for a while now." England answered. America lifted his free hand and rubbed his forehead. "Wow…" He muttered and paused when he felt the bandages that were wrapped around his head.

He glanced around a bit more and then looked back England, who was just relived that America was okay. America starred at England and tilted his head. "England, have you been crying?" England blinked, surprised by the question. "What do you mean?" He asked. "Your eyes are all red and your face is stained with tears." England became flustered at the thought about what a mess he probably looked like at the moment, not that America looked much better. "Well, damn it, America. You almost died. Of course I would be upset." He said and lowered his gaze in embarrassment. America chuckled softly and placed his hand on England's cheek, wiping away a tear stain with his thumb. "There's no need to cry. I'm here, aren't I? Besides, the hero always pulls through!" He said and tried to let out one of his signature _hero laughs_, but quickly cut the laugh short when a sudden wave of pain struck him. So, he simply settled for a small chuckle.

England glanced at America for a moment before averting his eyes again. "Yeah, yeah, I know." He muttered. "You won't be getting rid of me that easily." America said, smiling brightly. England kept his gaze off of America, a frown on his face that slowly faded away into a small smile. America was alive. He should be happy. Yet, after allowing the smile on to his face, it was quickly replaced by a curious look. "America…" He began, turning his gaze to look at him. America tilted his head, smiling up at England. "Yeah?" He asked, gesturing England to continue. "When I was talking to you on the phone before the plane crashed, you were about to say something. What were you going to say?"

America's eyes widened slightly and England noticed a small blush come upon his face. "Oh that? It was nothing. No need to fret over it." America said, chuckling nervously. England wondered why America was trying to avoid answering the question. What had he been about to stay on the phone earlier? If he was about to say it before, why wouldn't he say it now? "Come on, tell me. It can't be that bad, can it?" America rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "Well, I wouldn't say it was bad." He murmured. "Then tell me." America sighed and looked up at England, taking a deep breath before he spoke. "England, I love you." Utter shock spread across England's face and he was caught completely off guard by what America said. "You- What?"

"I love you, England. I never wanted you out of my life, not completely. You are my life, my everything, and I love you." America voice was firm, but, England could see the fear in his blue gaze. The fear that he would be rejected. England looked down, allowing the confession to sink in. Never before would he have ever thought that he would ever hear the words that America had just said and when America was greeted by silence, looked away crestfallenly, thinking he had spoken at the wrong time.

England stood quiet, processing America's emotions as well as his own. After finally coming up with a response, he tried to speak, but, he found difficulty at first. Finally finding his words, but keeping his eyes directed away, he responded. "I-I love you, too." England said softly as a blush crossed his face.

America looked at England, eyes wide and hopeful. "What? Really?" England took in a small breath before forcing his head to turn and look back at America. "Yes, I do. I love you, America." With a sudden burst of strength, America pulled England closer and sat up enough so he could reach him. He pressed his lips together with England's and kissed him. Though surprised by the kiss and America's sudden strength, England accepted the kiss and kissed America back. He tried to support America and he reached around his back to hold him back, both of them closing their eyes to enjoy the kiss.

The kiss ended sooner than either of them would have liked when America's sudden burst of strength left him and he pulled away from England, wincing in pain. He laid his head back down on his pillow and waited for the pain to die down. Embarrassed that he had made America use any bit of strength he had left on him, England quickly apologized to him. "Sorry." He murmured. America looked up at him. "Sorry for what?" He asked with a chuckle. "For making you push yourself when you're hurt." England replied. America laughed softly. "I don't mind getting hurt if it's for you." Unaffected by his charm, England frowned. "I don't want you getting hurt because of me." He said in a stern voice before softening his gaze and leaning forward to kiss America on the forehead. "Rest for now."

America sighed and settled himself in his bed. "Alright, fine." He said, but, before he closed his eyes, nudged England. "Hey, England. Before I knock out, can I ask you something?" "What?" England asked as a bright and hopeful smile spread across America's face. "Will you finally celebrate my birthday with me?"

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><p><strong>OMG! IT IS FINALLY DONE! -tearsofjoy-<br>-cough- Sorry about that. I am just happy I finally finished editing this story. This is almost my first story to post on this site. Yay~  
>And on Thanksgiving day, too(It''sThursdayitcounts). Anyways...yeah. This is story is based off of a role play plot I had with a friend of mine. Most of the stories I will post will probably be based off our plots. =w= This was the first one I wrote for our plots though and the first 'official' plot we had.<br>There will be a little epilogue for this, but, as I mentioned before, it is three in the morning and in a few hours I'll probably be woken up to help with Thanksgiving stuff like cooking and whatnot. I don't know if I can bring myself to go ahead and edit the epilogue and post it, even if it is short. I might, I might not. I'll have it up by the end of the day though if I don't go ahead and edit it now.  
>And note, I hate HTML and it was giving me issues while I was trying to get the spacing on this story correct. BC<br>So, I hope you enjoyed the story, and Happy Thanksgiving~  
><strong>


	2. Epilogue

America was eventually released from the hospital and England helped him return to his home when he was released. He was still in America's country and would stay long enough to celebrate his birthday, having to return home for work. It was now the Fourth of July, America's birthday. The two countries were standing on a hill on the North end of a lake. There was a large crowd of people towards the East as well, but, America and England decided to stay away from them so they could be alone. All the people, as well as the two nation, were there to watch some fireworks that would most likely be going off rather soon.

"Are you sure you want to be here?" England asked, worried for America's health. "You did just get released from the hospital and we only just got back yesterday. We could just go back to your house so you can rest." "I'm fine, England. No need to fret over the hero. America replied and laughed his _hero laugh_. England frowned. "Are you sure?" He asked, wanting to be sure. America grinned. "It's nothing I can't handle." England sighed. "Alright then. Just don't over exert yourself." He said and unfolded a blanket they had brought to sit on. Once he set up the blanket, America let himself fall backwards on to the blanket, completely forgetting about the English nation's warning and hurting himself when he landed.

America winced in pain when he hit the ground and England quickly turned his attention to him. After making sure he was alright, he narrowed his eyes at America. "What did I just tell you?" He snapped as America tried to shrug off the pain. "Ah, it's nothing. Just a few bruises." He said, though, England could tell that America was in more pain than he tried to make it seem. Yet, England didn't feel like arguing about it, so, he let it go. "You are hopeless." He said and sat down beside America before looking up towards the night sky above. "Just don't go sending yourself right back to the hospital after just getting out." America laughed. "You worry too much."

They sat there, waiting for the fireworks to begin. As England starred up at the sky, he noted that he actually felt kind of weird being here with America. Right now, he would usually just being alone and upset over what happened all those years ago when America left him to become independent. What made it more strange is that they both knew how they truly felt about each other now. Everything was so different, England could hardly believe it all. England's mind started to wander off in his thoughts and he almost forgot about the fireworks. That was until America's voice snapped him back to reality. "I think the fireworks are about to start!" He said and the two exchanged a quick glance. A wide smile was spread across the American's face, excited about the fireworks and that England was here with him to see them.

They both looked back up to the sky and soon, the first firework went off. More soon followed it and the dark sky lit up with many bright colors. England starred up at the colorful night enjoying the view of the lights that shot up into the sky and burst into tiny, multi-colored sparks. Looking away from the fireworks, England glanced over at America. He could see the awe sparking in America's eyes as he starred up at the sky. England smiled softly as he watched the younger nation stare up at the sky in wonderment.

America tore his gaze away from the fireworks and looked towards England. "This is great, isn't it?" America asked, smiling brightly. England nodded softly in response. "Yes, it is." He said, eyes still on America before he blinked, realizing he was starring and quickly turned his eyes away. He heard a quiet chuckle come from America before he suddenly felt arms wrap around him, bringing him into a hug. England looked up at America in confusion as he was hugged. "I'm glad you are here." America said, resting his head on the side of England's. England smiled and hugged him back. "I'm glad, too." America pulled England closer and shifted himself slightly so the older country would sitting between his legs. America hugged him from behind and England leaned his head back to rest it on America's shoulder. He turned his eyes back up to the sky to watch the fireworks.

America's gaze returned to the fireworks as well, but soon his eyes returned back to England. "Hey England…" America murmured and the other nation looked at him. "Yes, America?" He asked. America lowered his head and placed his lips on England's kissing him lightly as the finale of fireworks started to go off in the distance. England blinked when he was kissed before closing his eyes and deepening the kiss. They stayed locked in their kiss until the fireworks finished and the cheering from the people on the other side of the lake had died down. America pulled away from England and gazed into his eyes. "I love you, England." He whispered. England smiled. "I love you, too. Happy birthday, America." America hugged him tightly, never wanting to let go. "As long as I am with you, I'll always be happy."

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><p><strong>Short update is short. Here is the epilogue as promised. <strong>  
><strong>Happy Thanksgiving~!<strong>


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